I am not an angry person. My temper lies very deep below the surface. I barely even get road rage.

But.

For some reason, there are a handful of things that can almost immediately trigger that hard-to-trigger temper. I really don’t know why.

So in an attempt to understand myself better and maybe even work through these anger issues, I thought I’d examine these triggers a little more closely.

And then you can judge me. (It’s only fair.)

1. Road Cyclists. I get it. Biking is fun. I spent 94.85% of my childhood riding a bike. I understand that you cyclists who bike everywhere are all healthier than me, in your tight Under Armour shirts with sweat-wicking technology and aerodynamic sunglasses that also deflect particulate matter. You probably also save more money than me on gas alone.

But nothing infuriates me faster than coming upon you in your reflective biking unitard pumping those pedals on a busy two-lane highway. I actually want to roll down my window and yell, “GET OFF THE ROAD!”

Hey, Road Cyclist, do you realize that YOU COULD DIE? All it takes is a less-than-observant driver, and listen. I have two kids who spend the majority of their time in the car FIGHTING. There’s a solid chance that driver could be me. DON’T MAKE IT BE ME. Stick to the neighborhoods, okay, Armstrong? Yours Truly, Slow Down Your Neighbors*.

Les is short for Damien.

2. Les Miles. I realize that this is a highly specific, unrequited (and possibly unfair…possibly) source of anger. But to paraphrase my brother-in-law, LSU coach Les Miles must have sold his soul to devil to be that successful in the SEC.

Look, I grew up in the south; I know football. And I KNOW that NO ONE calls a passing play on 4th and 12 with seventeen seconds left in the game when you’re down by a field goal against a ranked defensive line…and comes out with the TD.

NO ONE accidentally runs out the game clock for a loss, only to have a last-minute penalty against the defense result in a final play of the game being the winning one.

NO ONE calls a play for the end zone when you’re only one point down AND within field goal range AND working with less than a minute in the final quarter.

NO ONE…except Les Miles.

I mean, if Tim Tebow is football’s equivalent of the Second Coming of Jesus, then who’s the Antichrist**? I’m no prophet, so I won’t throw out Les Miles’ name as a potential candidate, but Tim LaHaye might***. Les Miles’ idiotically lucky play calls just scream Satanic Pact to me, and to be honest, he is making me question my faith in football.

3. Unsatisfied McDonald’s Patrons. I’m looking POINTEDLY at you, Guy who held up the line to complain that his one piece of bacon on his Bacon Egg & Cheese McMuffin was too small. On one hand, it’s bacon. But on the other giant-sized hand? We were in a Walmart McDonald’s. Nothing about that last sentence indicates any level of satisfaction guaranteed.

So if you find yourself disappointed at McDonald’s, just take your miniature bacon and eat it quietly in the corner and be grateful that you didn’t find a thumbnail wedged in the bun. And move along so I can order my giant Dr. Pepper****.

4. Poor People. LOL OMG JUST KIDDING*****!

*Why, yes, that is a Modern Family reference. +3,243 points to you for catching it.**Why, yes, I do realize the complete irreverence of #2 in its entirety (commence judgment). Then again, there’s nothing reverent about #2, right? Wocka wocka!***Tim LaHaye just denied this vehemently.****Absolutely necessary to endure any length of time in Walmart.*****I SWEAR.

What about people who write checks in the grocery checkout line (or any checkout line, for that matter)? A friggin check, old lady? Really? Do you want a quill and ink to go with that? Here, how about some candlelight?

I never go to McDonalds…but I did in Arizona (I needed a place with Wifi to write). They were out of tea. Tea! No tea bags? How is that possible? Of course, I was in the middle of the desert (Quartzside) and I had just visited the naked bookseller (I’m not kidding). Maybe everyone needs a tea after seeing him…

Hey, lady- You know darn good and well that bacon was too tiny. I’m a grown man, and if I wanna complain about the size of my fast food breakfast meat, it’s my right as a human, as a registered voter, and as an American citizen. So settle down, booster seat, and wait your turn while I finish writing this check for my second order of McGriddles.

A thumbnail wedged in the bun? First, cracking up. Second, hoping this has never happened to you. Third, anyone who expects fine cuisine and appropriate bacon size at McDonald’s deserves to be kicked in the shins.

Have you seen all the hullabaloo on TV about Wendy’s new raw cut sea salt french fries? They’re pretty awesome, as in yes, they rival McD’s fries and yes, I waited in the drive thru line entirely too long just to get my $2.49 order of medium gourmet-esque deliciousness.

OMG I’ve been frothing at the mouth to rant (er, blog) about the bikers!! It’s nuts out here. I think they think they’re going for a scenic ride through the hilly countryside, but really they’re just tempting the fates.

Why have I not been making a point to read your blog before now? You ranted about college football! THIS IS MY HOME. What’s for dinner?

Also, if I were any more on board with point #1, I’d be one of the bickering children in your car. That would be weird, so I’ll try not to be any more on board with it. But yeah, I’ve been in a car accident or two or six or whatever AND I’ve witnessed a motorcycle accident, and I’d rather avoid any more such unpleasantness. Bicycles and bicycle-unfriendly roads are not a good mix. Are you riding to GO somewhere? Okay, MAYBE I can tolerate it (but come on, there has to be an alternate route). Are you riding just to ride? FIND A MORE APPROPRIATE VENUE, SPANDEX MCHELMETHEAD.

Oh my! How did I miss this? This is beyond fantastic! And The Saints lost AGAIN last night. They had it with 14 seconds left! And then … WHAT? Now it all makes sense.

Also, you go to Walmart? I call that the Evil Empire. Don’t you have a Target? I need to understand why you would ever go to Walmart. Ever. Unless, say, all other stores were closed and your children needed milk.

“I understand that you cyclists who bike everywhere are all healthier than me, in your tight Under Armour shirts with sweat-wicking technology and aerodynamic sunglasses that also deflect particulate matter”